


Jealousy will drive you mad

by OnlySkyAboveMe



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Beards (Facial Hair), Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 08:53:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19849762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlySkyAboveMe/pseuds/OnlySkyAboveMe
Summary: Tessa and Scott’s son comes home from his travels with a full beard and Scott has many feelings...





	Jealousy will drive you mad

**Author's Note:**

> This went from a very brief pitch to 1500 words shockingly quickly. This is the shortest, fluffiest thing I’ve written in a while, and is just a bit of fun. All those pictures on Twitter in the last day or so and the debates surrounding it made me laugh, and here’s where it’s led. Enjoy!

Scott’s had a frown on his face since they got back in the car at the airport. Tessa can tell he’s in a mood about something, but she cannot for the life of her pinpoint what it is about exactly. This should be a happy day; Rupert has just returned from ten months backpacking in South America and is now chatting animatedly with his youngest sister in the back seat of the minivan, the 19-year-old oh so softly holding onto the hand of 12-year-old Vanessa. Tessa keeps doing a double take as she catches sight of them in the rear-view mirror, completely unaccustomed to seeing her elder son with a full beard – he’d been clean shaven when they’d tearfully waved him off on his travels all those months ago.

He tells them all about his long journey home during the 45-minute drive from London airport back towards their home up in Bayfield – a journey which included a bus, a donkey and three flights (he claims there was also a ride on a zipwire, but Tessa thinks he’s just winding up 16-year-old Michael, who’s been sitting sullenly in the rearmost seat with his headphones on, sulking that he was dragged away from the sunshine to go to the airport, when he would rather have sneaked his boyfriend in the house a few hours earlier than planned). Two sulking Moir boys are more than Tessa really has the energy to deal with today, especially not with their eldest, Lucy, bringing her fiancé with her for dinner tonight as well – thank goodness the weather is glorious and her hopefully soon-to-be-less-grumpy husband is a dab hand at grilling steaks.

**

When the finally make it home, everyone parts ways; Michael to sit on the porch with his book to wait for Callum, Vanessa and Tessa to the kitchen to make the potato salad and vegetable skewers, Scott to get the coals prepped for the grill, and Rupert to the luxury of his parents’ vast en-suite bathroom to take a 45-minute shower. He appears downstairs just as Lucy arrives with Peter and she squeals and launches herself at her younger brother.

“Wow, Rupes,” she says after he sets her down, “I almost couldn’t see you under all those freckles!”

Rupert feigns offence just as the front door opens again and Michael comes in holding Callum’s hand.

“She’s right, bro,” Michael says as Callum smiles sheepishly and waves at Rupert. “You’re basically one giant freckle.”

“Just because you two shrimps got the Moir tanning ability, doesn’t mean…”

“Oi, I’m the same height as Mom!” cries Lucy, folding her arms across her chest and straightening her back.

“Me too!” says Michael, and everyone else assembled in the hallway snorts with laughter.

“Oh you can all just piss off,” he huffs. “Except you, you can come with me.” He pulls on Callum’s hand (the dark-haired boy’s cheeks bright pink as he tries to stifle his giggles over the banter between his boyfriend and his siblings) and marches towards the stairs. 

“Hey hey hey,” says Rupert, leaping over to block Michael and Callum’s path. “You know the Virtue-Moir house rules.” 

Michael groans. “Oh god. Please, don’t sa-”

“Family time  before  dinner. Make-out time  after .” Sing-songs Rupert gleefully.

Michael sighs and drops his forehead onto Callum’s shoulder.

“Sorry, little bro,” says Lucy with a shrug. “Rules are rules.” Peter nods his head solemnly over her shoulder before winking at him and offering a sympathetic smile.

In the end the five of them make their way through the house and out to the beach, gathering stones and wood for the fire pit, after which Peter and Rupert get a good rally going with some paddles and an inflatable beach ball. Tessa sends Michael and Callum out for s’mores supplies, and if the boys take a good half hour longer than they ought to have done and come back with pink cheeks and slightly swollen lips, no one says anything.

**

The fires crackles and Scott stares at the embers as they start to die down, flecks of burning ash floating slowly up into the starry sky. He’s lost in his own thoughts and is startled when he hears her voice.

“Hey you,” says Tessa as she plonks herself down on the rug next to him, her knees cracking as loudly as always. Sometimes they have contests in the mornings, to see which of them can make the most joints pop and creak as they roll out of bed and get on with their daily routines. 

She nuzzles her nose against his temple before kissing it. “Why so glum, chum?” she whispers.

“It’s nothing,” he huffs. Then he’s suddenly aware that he’s alone with her by the fire pit. “Where’s everyone at?”

“Well, both Lucy and Peter, and Michael and Callum are taking full advantage of our family rule, so I’d avoid the living room and the reading nook.”

“Noted,” he says with a chuckle.

“Rupes and Nessa are up on the deck attempting to play the pan pipes... I’d maybe avoid them too.” She laughs big and loud from her belly and he grins at her adoringly before his face falls again.

“My love,” she says, resting her head on his shoulder. “What is it?”

“It’s ridiculous,” he says with a shrug.

“But it’s important if it’s bothering you this much,” she reasons, trying to coax him into getting it off his chest.

Scott can’t believe he’s jealous of his own son; his sweet, charming, son with a heart of gold who just spent six months teaching math and English to rural schoolchildren in Bolivia before joining a group of young conservationists in Peru to discuss a long-term solution for the protection of Machu Pichu. Who is moving to Vancouver next month to begin studying to be a geography teacher. But he is jealous his 19-year-old son – for the simple fact that he has grown more hair on his face in the past ten months that Scott has in his entire life. 

Except that’s not really the reason he’s mad. He’s pretty much only mad at himself, because for a split second as their fair-haired, freckled, bearded, lanky, 6’2” son raced towards them at London airport and scooped his mother up into his arms and swung her around as she laughed and cried at the same time into his neck, Scott felt the stirrings of doubt. And he hates himself for it.

He knows it’s irrational. He knows he’s wrong. He knows it’s not possible. But the thought is in his head and he’s so angry for even letting it take root there.

“Please don’t make me say it, T. I hate myself for letting it even cross my mind.”

“I won’t make you say it,” she murmurs. “But can I say something?”

“Of course,” he breathes, turning to look at her right before she presses her forehead against his.

She takes a deep breath before speaking. “Have you seen that boy’s nose?” 

Scott snorts so loudly the soft sound of stilted pan pipes stops floating down from the deck. Of course she can read his mind; she’s been doing it for over 45 years, whether he likes it or not. Tessa is doubled over laughing now, but with him, rather than at him, which he hugely appreciates in this moment.

“Also,” she says as she catches her breath, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “He was an IVF baby.”

He drops his head into his hands and begins to shake as he laughs silently. “I’m such a fucking moron.”

“Sometimes,” she giggles. “But you’re mine and I love you.”

He kisses her then, and he feels her breath leave her in a soft huff as she melts into his arms. He wants nothing more than to lie down on the rug and take it a bit further, perhaps sneak his hand under her sweatshirt, but their kids aren’t that far away on the deck, and lord knows they’ve been scarred enough over the years.

Tessa breaks the kiss and then looks down at her watch. “I ought to get Nessa to bed, she’s got training in the morning.” She pats his knee and then leans on his shoulders as she hauls herself to her feet. He watches her go with a goofy smile on his face and follows soon after, kissing his daughter goodnight before sitting down on the rattan couch next to Rupert, involuntarily emitting a grunting sound that makes him feel ancient.

“Alright old man?” asks Rupert with a cheeky grin. Scott’s swift to pinch his ribs, knowing exactly where his dear son is ticklish, and sure enough the teenager crumples at the waist and tries to swat him away. Scott stops and pulls his son into his side, kissing him on his temple and holding him close, glad that Rupert shows no resistance to the action. In fact he burrows further into his father’s side, just like he used to when he was a little boy and the movie they were watching was just that little bit too intense for him.

Rupert sighs in contentment and they sit for a while, father and son enjoying the quiet of each other’s company as the stars get brighter in the sky. Scott’s aware of lights being turned off inside the house and gets up to head inside. He turns to bid his son goodnight.

Scott ruffles his hair and then his beard too for good measure, feeling a little smug when he realises the hair is actually quite wiry and rough. “This needs to go. You look like a hobo.”

“You’re just jealous,” taunts Rupert.

“Oh for sure,” agrees Scott.


End file.
